


A Jump Through the Dark

by hiddenheadspace, maplewix (orphan_account)



Series: aqsom verse [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: (like that's not a racist descriptor but for the sake of tagging), Aromantic Character, Attempted Murder, Dark Magic, Demisexual Character, Disordered eating referenced vaguely, Epic Friendship, F/M, Gen, Implied/Referenced Torture, Kidnapping, M/M, Male-Female Friendship, Multi, Other, Polyamory, Queer Character, Queerplatonic Relationships, Ritual Magic, Slytherin Harry, Trans Character, dark magic as religion, pureblood rhetoric is bs, romantic relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-12
Updated: 2014-10-26
Packaged: 2018-02-16 18:39:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2280477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiddenheadspace/pseuds/hiddenheadspace, https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/maplewix





	1. Prologue

Tom eyed the much older Dumbledore with all the wariness the situation called for.

“I will ask only once more,” he said. “Where is Harry?”

“I had not realized the level your attachment could go to, given the chance,” Dumbledore mused in a decidedly far too fascinated fashion.

“Where is he?” Tom demanded, losing his temper at last. “Where is Harry, what have you done to him?”

In the ringing silence following his words, Tom became aware of a tingling feeling along his skin. Dumbledore was watching him with now-wary continued interest.

Tom forced his magic down so that it would not spark quite so obviously.

“The truth is, Mr. Riddle,” Dumbledore said once Tom was calm, “we do not know where your Harry is. He is missing.”


	2. Regroup

The cell door opened. Harry squinted against the sudden flood of light. A small figure stood silhouetted there, staring down upon him.

The door creaked shut and the figure lit their wand.

A young girl stood there, holding a familiar bone-white wand, eyes red as blood.

“Do you know who I am, Harry Potter?” she asked.

He shook his head, still eyeing the wand. Dread seeped into his bones.

“I am Lord Voldemort.”

“But you can’t be,” he said, voice desperate and thin. “I thought — we changed the way the world would go.”

“Yes,” Voldemort said, “but I am the most powerful wizard in the world. I am the Dark Lord. A little time-mangling couldn’t stop me from rising.”

“What happened to Tom?” Harry whispered.

An ugly look twisted Voldemort’s face briefly before she — no, he smiled dangerously. “Did you think, once you knew the truth, that you had changed him? That the power of friendship might have changed my fate? Did Dumbledore fill your mind with hopes that love could save your wretched Mudblood mother from me?”

Harry’s hands were shaking, he noted dimly. He tucked them around himself and shivered.

“No, Harry,” said Voldemort. “Nothing could stop the rise of a Dark Lord.”

 

* * *

 

Remus Lupin burst through the door to Dumbledore’s office.

“He’s gone, isn’t he?” Dumbledore sounded resigned.

“Yes,” Lupin said urgently. “He must have run during the night — how many should go after him?”

“None,” Dumbledore said. “He has as much chance of finding Harry Potter as we do, perhaps even more. We will continue as we have been, and when the time comes, I have no doubt that Tom will resurface.”

“But—” Lupin seemed confused. “We’ll just… let him go? The most dangerous student Hogwarts ever had, and you want to let him escape?”

“He is long gone by now,” Dumbledore said. “And I suspect that he has a part to play in this war. We will see him again.”

 

* * *

 

Tom knelt in the dirt and pressed a wand into the ground. “We will find him together, won’t we?” he murmured. He stayed put for a moment before standing, leaving the wand of holly in the center of the circle. “I will find you, Harry,” he promised.

 

* * *

 

Locked in the shattered remnants of herself, Ginny Weasley thrashed and screamed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hopefully this clarified some things, if not, well, there are more chapters coming. :)


	3. Dark Lords, Forests, and Times

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you guys don't mind relaly short chapters ? i have chronic fatigue and no energy for writing long things right now ):

“The truth is, Harry,” Voldemort said in the voice of the young girl he was possessing, “that nothing you did could stop me, because I already existed outside of time.”

“Do you never stop talking?” Harry couldn’t help but interrupt.

Voldemort’s eyes narrowed.

There was something singularly disturbing about being on the wrong end of a wand he had seen used to help him.

“ _Crucio_.”

 

* * *

 

Ginny clawed at the faintest crack that she had managed to create. When there was no immediate progress, she snarled and tried harder.

 

* * *

 

“What did you mean when you said…said that you exist outside of time.”

Voldemort said smugly, “I am the Lord of Dark Magic. You could never stop me from happening, because I already have.”

“And… who is the girl?” Harry slurred. He’d bitten his tongue at some point.

“Inconsequential,” Voldemort said, and drew his wand again.

 

* * *

 

“These are dark times,” Dumbledore said gravely. He stood at the Head Table in the Great Hall, surveying the assorted students and their families. “We will try to keep Hogwarts running as usual, and hope that our guests seeking sanctuary will feel comfortable here. However, I do have to ask for your support in the coming weeks. Many of us have lost family to this war already, and I cannot allow this to continue to happen if it is in my power to stop.”

He paused and let his gaze soften. “We have allies, and we have hope. Harry Potter has returned, and though he has not yet been located, we all hope that his time in Voldemort’s youth will hold information for us. I hope that none of you will hesitate to approach me for anything. Let us eat.”

Everyone sank onto benches, some squeezing together in places and others far more spread out than could be thought about without fighting down tears.

Hermione Granger twisted her hands into fists in her lap. Neville Longbottom prodded at his food, thoughts bubbling behind his eyes. Luna Lovegood grieved quietly for the loss of her dear friend and still held out hope that Ginny might be returned home.

Far away, Tom Riddle wished himself a happy fourteenth birthday and prepared a ritual for the sun’s rising. Harry’s wand was still tugging him forward. He would find his friend soon.


	4. The Escape

“Spare me the speech,” Harry mumbled. His words fell strangely from is tongue, slurred and thick. “I already know everything we had time to learn about the Dark Lords.”

“Really,” Voldemort said. “Do enlighten me, Harry.”

“The Dark Lords and their companions join with magic,” he said, and trying to wave his arm. “Where’s your companion, I wonder. Who did you pick? One of the Lestranges?”

“I needed no weakling’s support then, and neither do I now,” Voldemort snarled. “I have absolute power, and I am one with magic in ways which you, foolish boy, will never understand.”

Harry opened his eyes. “That’s…” He scratched at the ground with his fingernails and shivered. “In no way a good idea? One person alone can’t contain that much raw knowledge. They’d explode. Not even Tom could manage… oh. That’s why you’re unstable, isn’t it?”

“How dare you speak that name,” Voldemort seethed.

“How dare you?” Harry countered. His head was swimming. “He’s my friend, not yours.” He wasn’t sure he was entirely making sense anymore. His eyes refused to stay open.

Voldemort laughed, low and cruel, and drew his wand again.

 

* * *

 

A snake slithered into Harry’s view.

“Hello,” he slurred in Parseltongue.

“Hello,” the snake said. “Are you Harry?”

“That’s me,” he agreed. “What’s your name? Are you a boy or a girl?”

“My name is Ssyltth,” the snake said. “And I am a snake.”

“Fair enough,” Harry decided. His eyes would actually stay open now, he discovered. It had been a while since Voldemort had visited. “What are you doing here?”

“I was told to give you this,” it said, and for the first time Harry saw the tiny scroll beside his head.

He reached for it with a hand that shook too badly to hold the paper. It floated back down to the ground.

“Ssyltth, can you hold it flat for me?” he asked, propping himself up on his side and worming his way over onto his stomach to better read the paper. The snake obligingly spread out the scroll.

 _“Be ready to escape at my alarm,”_ he read slowly. “ _Tom.”_

Tom.

“Ssyltth, who sent you here?” he asked urgently.

“A young man like yourself, of course,” it replied. “He spoke our tongue without any accent.”

“Tom,” Harry said, and rolled back onto his back. Tears formed into a knot in his throat that he roughly swallowed down. “Tom is here.”

“Yes,” the snake said dispassionately. “Am I free to go now?”

 

* * *

 

A loud bang sent Harry jolting upright. There was the sound of feet running past his cell, loud tromping boots, a swish of a cloak over stone floor, silence, and then the quiet sound of a young boy’s feet approaching.

Tom opened the door and smoke poured into the room. “Time to go, Harry,” he said softly.

Harry managed to sit up before his trembling arms gave out. “Tom,” he said. “You came for me.”

“Of course I did, my friend,” Tom said, and swiftly moved to help Harry to his feet.

“Wait,” he slurred as Tom moved to start forward. “There’s a little girl here.”

“What?”

“Voldemort’s possessing her.”

Tom sighed. “We’ll come back and help,” he promised. “We’ll do our best to save her, I promise, but now we need to get out of here.”

Harry nodded against his arm. Tom had grown taller than him, caught in an ungainly growth spurt that left him too thin and sharp at the edges. Harry stayed short, no matter how much food he hid away to eat later in the evenings.

“Let’s go,” he agreed, and they started to the door.

A pair of swift footsteps sounded down the hallway. Tom drew his wand.

As the dark-haired man rounded the door, Tom silently cast a cutting curse towards his throat. The man deflected by the faintest inch.

“Stop,” he snapped. Tom cast another curse. Harry could feel him shaking with desperation.

“I’m here to help,” the man said. Tom paused for half a moment.

“Give me a reason not to kill you,” he said.

“You’re only a boy,” the man said. “I thought you would be older.” He sneered. “I know how to get out.”

“So do I,” Tom said. “Get out of my way.”

“Tom,” Harry said, and tugged at his arm. He heard more footsteps headed their way. The stranger drew his wand.

Tom swore, the unusually crass words falling from his lips. “Avada Kedavra!” he cried.

The man threw himself behind the door. Someone shouted and there came the sound of running. Tom grabbed Harry’s hand and made a break for the hallway.

Curses slammed into the wall behind them as they rounded the first bend in the corridor. Harry tripped and Tom cast a steadying spell without even pausing to draw breath. They ran on, dodging sideways through a wall at one point to climb up a hidden set of stairs. Tom pressed a hand to his mouth as he gasped for breath in an attempt to silence himself.

“I’ve been hiding in the walls for days,” he hissed. “Come on.”

They dodged a cursed painting that shouted as they past. Tom cast a silencing spell.

“My wand,” Harry remembered suddenly. The portrait glared at him.

“Rest,” Tom said. “I have it. I stole it before I came to get you.

“Thank you,” Harry said as Tom passed it over. “I think I can keep going now.”

Tom nodded and took his elbow to steady him. “It’s not far now.”

He was true to his word. After only a few more twists within the walls they broke free and sprinted across the grass.

A spell exploded the ground behind Tom’s feet, and he turned to deflect the next curse as smoothly as he breathed. Harry had always loved to watch him duel, but now wasn’t the time to dally. They made it into the cover of the trees and Tom pushed Harry to the ground, casting a concealing spell as swiftly as possible.

They lay still, tangled together on the dirt, breathing shallowly and as quietly as possible as footsteps thundered about them. Tom pressed a hand to Harry’s wrist in a silent signal: they were to wait the Death Eaters out.


	5. Of Castles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's probably going to be a month-long break soon as i'm doing national novel writing month (nanowrimo)
> 
> if you are also a wrimo, come friend me, my handle is "catcrazysim"

They whispered to each other in Parseltongue when the forest around them slowly grew quieter. Tom told Harry how he had found his way into the future.

“It was simple, really,” he explained. “All I needed was a bit of your hair and enough determination.”

“And you found me,” Harry agreed. He had stopped shaking with the exertion of their sprint and had relaxed, letting the dirt press into his face. He could hear the thrum of the earth in his ears. “Tom, you’re not having any ideas about taking on being a Dark Lord by yourself, are you?”

“No?” Tom said. “That would be inadvisable. And I already have you. It would be a waste not to use your skills in support of my goals.”

“Good,” Harry yawned. “Because this future version of you didn’t have me, and he made the mistake of trying to be Lord without any companions at all. He seems quite mad to me.”

Tom pressed his arm in silent acknowledgement. “I will have you,” he promised, “and should another arise for the opportunity, they will also join in our circle, although I do not envision that happening with any rapidity.”

“No,” Harry agreed. “I don’t know anyone else could keep up with you. I barely do, after all.”

“You do just fine,” Tom corrected. They fell asleep with their fingers brushing, safe under the shelter of their magic.

They rose early in the morning, creeping silently about under disillusionment spells, darting from each tree’s shadow to the next until they were far enough away to relax.

“Where will we go?” Harry asked. “Hogwarts?”

“Too predictable,” Tom said. “No, I was thinking we should try to find the castle of the Dark Lord.”

Harry gasped in surprise. “But don’t you think Voldemort likely would have found it already?”

“Then why does he remain at the Malfoy’s manor?” Tom pressed. “I think maybe he was locked out by not having a companion.”

“That’s… a possibility,” Harry said slowly, hesitantly. “It seems dangerous though.”

“We’ll be careful,” Tom said. He cast another revealing charm to check for people nearby. “We know how to hide in plain sight.”

“True,” Harry acknowledged. “I suppose if you think it’ll be alright…”

“I do think,” Tom said. “Think about it, Harry. We could have a stronghold to hide in until we figure out how to go home.”

“Go home?”

“Back to the present. The past, I mean,” Tom said impatiently. “There’s nothing for us here.”

Harry slowed and then stopped. “I don’t think I can do that,” he admitted honestly.

Tom frowned. “What do you mean, you can’t?”

“I mean,” Harry plowed onward, “all these people have been hurt, and that poor little girl who was possessed. He tortured me, Tom. I don’t think I can just let it go, not when these people think I can help them.”

“What kind of lies did Dumbledore feed you?” Tom asked incredulously. “Harry, you don’t owe these people anything.”

“I know I don’t,” Harry said. “I want revenge.”

He stopped to think about that for a moment. It was true, he discovered. He wanted vengeance for his parents’ deaths and for the torture he had endured at Voldemort’s wand.

Tom was evaluating him slowly. “That does make sense,” he admitted. “I’ll concede that point. But I still believe we should try to find the castle in the meantime. If you do truly wish to seek revenge, we should have a base from which to strike.”

“Agreed,” Harry said immediately. “Thank you, Tom.”

“If this is what you wish, then I will help you see it through,” Tom promised.

 

* * *

 

 

The ritual required ingredients that couldn’t be found in the wild. They would have to find a potion’s master that could supply them. Tom suggested Knockturn Alley, but they both considered Hogwarts.

In the end the Alley won out. Harry could navigate the modern world well enough, but neither of them had any money. Harry thought perhaps they could work off the expenses. Tom kept his thoughts to himself.

They went at dawn, as the shops were closing for the night and returning to their daylight innocence. _The Potioneer’s Prize_ was not a hard shop to find. All they had to do was slip through Diagon Alley and down a few turns before they found their destination.

The bell rang as they entered. Harry kept his head and telltale scar low, well aware that they looked like the pair of penniless, filthy orphans that they were.

“I don’t have any scraps if that’s what you’re after,” the shopkeeper said, bored and a little sleepy.

“We’re here to try and strike a deal, actually,” Tom said. “We were wondering if, in exchange for an intact unicorn hoof, we could work here for a few days or so.”

She laughed. “And why should I even consider entertaining your offer?”

“We have power,” Harry suggested. “We’re not weak wizards by any means.”

“Can you prove that?” she said. “You’re what, ten years old? Twelve at most?”

“Fourteen,” Tom said, a touch indignantly.

She laughed. “Yeah, that’s really old enough to be trusted around dangerous ingredients. Have you even had any schooling?”

“Yes,” Tom said, “but that’s beside the point. I can prove my power.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah?”

Tom slowly took a deep breath. Magic picked up in the room like a rush of wind.

The shopkeeper’s eyes widened. “What are you—”

Magic swirled around her, almost corporeal in its strength. Her eyes rolled back into her head.

Tom dropped the magic as quickly as he’d raised it.

The shopkeeper gasped in stunned awe, tears pooling in her eyes. “My Lord,” she said.

“Yes,” Tom said. “I am the true Lord of Dark Magic. The other is a fraud. I will see him defeated.”

“Sh,” she said. “There are ears everywhere.” She beckoned them closer. “We keep the hoofs in the back corner. Take what you need. In exchange, all I ask is a bit of skin. Not enough to track you, but enough to imbue healing draughts. Your strength could save many lives.”

“Acceptable,” Tom said instantly.

Harry watched patiently as the shopkeeper scraped dead skin cells off Tom’s arm into a bottle. She slid them the ingredients they needed and let them out the back with a whispered, “Good luck.”


End file.
